When Kitchens Collide
by candelight
Summary: Daichi, Seiya, and Sora are all in for it in a desperate pursuit of a blissfully oblivious Najika’s heart. Best way to describe your feelings: Right in your own kitchen with a dessert! Thing is, competition is fierce and fast.....
1. Chapter 1

When Kitchens Collide

Daichi, Seiya, and Sora (Still alive) are all in for it in a desperate pursuit of a blissfully oblivious Najika's heart. Best way to describe your feelings: Right in your own kitchen with a dessert! Thing is, with cheap tactics, overwhelming adversity, and in between cheesecake attacks, will ANYONE confess true love?

Hallo! My first Kitchen Princess fiction-whoo hoo! I love the series….somehow, I just knew Daichi would end up with Najika. Anyone could tell from the beginning. It's always the slightly gruff type to win the girl's heart. Sigh….

Quote:

_"There hath no stranger, more desolate, nor hopeless place, _

_Then the dark domain and confine of a kitchen's walls…"_

* * *

(Seiya's POV)

What could be more perfect?

A grin spread across my face as I reached my private kitchen door-one that quickly turned into a laugh as I impatiently grasped the new Apron Kiro had placed out for me.

Najika Kazami.

Kazami….

NajikaNajikaNajikaNajika….

I loved her.

I wanted her as my own.

Right now. It was _pathetic_-utterly pathetic that neither Kitazawa had made a move on her for two years.

This was only my sixth month here, and I already knew what I wanted.

But then again, I've always known what I wanted.

Well….

….at least until now.

* * * *

There had been many girls that gave me chocolates on Valentines Day-and many on White Day.

Some homemade (Blecch, none of those twits seemed to have ever opened a cookbook prior to the occasion) and store bought.

I didn't care.

Either they did or they didn't.

Whichever worked for me just fine.

* * * *

But Najika….

Who would've thought that the same girl I watched through the windowpane was the one I actually took time and energy to CARE about?

Father shunned me most of my childhood. Even when I brought home awards, he simply wanted more.

If I reached no higher then second place, well….

Mother had left years ago with some other man. I resented her for that.

So much so, I began denying I ever had a mother in the first place.

Who had ever cooked a meal for me? Certainly not my father-heaven _forbid_ that his clothes be stained.

The clothes that he threw away almost daily.

But Najika brought me a taste of home-even when she bested ME.

Hokkaido.

I chewed my Madeline slowly that night, savoring every inferior, lemony, lavender based bite.

Funny, in a way.

It had been years-years since I had actually sobbed or even shed a tear. I had gotten well used to my tutors' daily aggression.

But no one had ever told me how difficult it was to eat and cry at the same time.

- - -

Even as I tied the strings around my waist, the smile simply wouldn't fade.

It was like preparing dessert for people and watching their faces-even if it WAS with poor material.

Just like the first feeling I had when I watched my first soufflé and cake rise-just as I had baked my first batch of croissants or _Torta cremosa della libbra del cioccolato._

I can't say I know how I fell in love with this aloof country girl, or how I decided that, until I could hypothesize WHY she kept beating me in our cooking skirmishes, I would refuse to keep my eyes off her.

She seemed irritated, but took it with good humor.

* * *

I was never used to anyone but my servants when I was older to fuss over me.

Whn I came into Fujita diner with a cold, not only did she practically strap me down to stop me from working-much to my displeasure-she prepared Dumpling Soup-which takes a good three hours to make.

I savored each taste that night. It tasted somewhat…better, then what I've come to expect from people. I do not know why.

Still….

What did I make for Najika to prove my feelings? She'd fall for me eventually-if not right off the bat-but it had to be special.

Something simple, but powerful.

My eyes narrowed.

Didn't want to scare her off…but it had to be a profound touch….

My eyes widened.

Yes.

I'd figured it out again.

_Ora sia mine-_an Italian dessert with the first taste of vanilla sweetness on her lips after you bit into the cheesecake, following by a tangy, fresh, lemon aroma…

Excellent.

I seized a pan, and began to pull up my sleeves as I turn on one of the many nozzles of a nearby sink, and impatiently began to lather at my hands.

_Ora sia mine-_it was perfect.

In Italian, the words simply meant, "Be Mine Now."

* * *

_End of Chapter One_

Whew! I'm tired….please, should I move on with the Kitazawas? ^^ Tell me what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

When Kitchens Collide

Sora's Recipe: So Simple and Clean

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hallo, everyone! :D I really wasn't planning to update this fiction anymore….thought the interest level was far too low. But I'm back now, and I have my sweet reviewers to thank! *Huggles reviewers.*

By the time I get this uploaded, finals should be over. *Falls on knees and weeps out of extreme relief. The holidays are coming up soon…..^^ So, Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, Happy Birthday to some of you, Happy Kwanzaa….and, well, you get the overall hint.*

Disclaimer: I do not own Kitchen Princess. I think the ending was just a little too predictable. Don't get me wrong-I adore the series-but you from Volume One that Najika's going to end up with Daichi. I think I would've liked to be surprised.

Who's going to win _this _kitchenthrow down? Difficult to say….but, as an additional bonus to the end of this story, I hope to include our lovely contestants' recipes-as an additional factor to the true meaning of KP!

Also….(I know you're sick of me blathering, people…..gomen nasai….'~'….but, a small novel-not-quite-manga was just released on Kitchen Princess….about an Angel Food Cake! LOL! I haven't had a chance to read it yet…but if you have, tell me? Please? ^^

~*~*~*~*~

It's late. The nearby clock-ticking in the silence-tells me so. The secretaries have long since stood up from their office chairs, yawning slightly-and sleepily wished me a goodnight, and an earnest entreating not to stay up too late. I can do little but offer a nod in response.

I finally finished a mounting pile of paperwork waiting expectantly at my desk, writing hand throbbing as I completed that last composition form for the new budget. Stiff, light headed, and now more then ready to…as, Daichi refers to it, "hit the hay."

As I leave the folders stacked into four consecutive, neat little rows for Adjaci-san to stamp in the morning, something on the desk catches my eyes.

……?

A little…box. With a note on it.

I don't recall that little box being there before. Did Takako or Adjaci-san leave it there….?

I repress a sigh, and a small smile.

Oh. One of my….ah…."friends" as they like to dub themselves, primarily girls-must have made me something as a good luck token for next week's piano concert in Vienna.

More then often, I give them to the secretaries or staff-who complain they're gaining weight, but happily munch on the pastries regardless. I don't really like to eat. Odd as it sounds, it's merely time consuming….and a bother. Really, I wouldn't do it at all if it weren't a necessity.

Well….not always. There is one…"special place," as I refer to it….that slightly altered my opinion on that matter.

Okay. I admit it-altered, smashed, crushed, tore, jumped on that opinion about ninety six times after setting it on fire and squashing it into microscopic pieces.

Have YOU ever tried her food?

A sigh escapes me again, an odd, unfamiliar warmth beginning to lick at my cheeks.

Najika.

The food she made was….friendly. No, I am not on medication-I do mean what I say. Perhaps that's why Fujita Diner was running the Terrace out of business.

The prices were cheap…and, much to Fujita-san's despair, Najika-chan drove the prices down quite a bit….as well as enlarged the portions currently served. Students from the special class, regular high school, and elementary school were flooding the warm little cottage at mealtimes, nowadays. I've also seen more then my fair share of teachers disdainfully try one of Najika-chan's dishes….and then ask her if she happens to have any seconds prepared.

The atmosphere-which she conformed to look like that of lavender house was….homey. In the winter, there was a small, neglected fireplace that Najika cleaned out-and many students crowded around the merrily crackling flames with a large bowl of soup in a bread bowl that Najika-chan had baked herself, laughing and chatting idly. The chef herself was busily scurrying around-Seiya-san (I wonder why my blood pressure seems to be going up again…?) Haranguing the customers, or complaining to a snoring Fujita-san.

The food was always delicious. As well as home cooked-and the thought Najika put into preparing each dish. The girl's ability to recall people's personal tastes was nothing short of miraculous. The smallest things she noticed-such as that student that sat by the window was lactose intolerant.

That boy preferred his food to be slightly salty.

That young elementary school girl with the brown braids liked sweet things, so her lemonade was always well stirred with the extra pinch of sugar.

And, after everyone had wearily trooped in after midterms, there was a complimentary cup of rosehip tea already steaming on the tables as it continued to snow outside.

Except at my place. There was hazelnut coffee for me. She remembered.

As I sipped, slowly feeling the warmth seep into my insides, I felt the same occur to my face as Najika merrily swept by to take someone else's order

~*~*~*~

For many of the students that chose to live in the dorms or whose parents' home lived too far away to commute very often, the small restaurant became something of a second home.

For me as well. I'd much rather be spending time in Fujita diner then in my own suite. It feels….more sweet. More safe-like that of a hug to welcome you home. I have not recalled such an emotion for over six years….and I was almost positive that it was little more then a far distant memory-if anything to be remembered at all.

In our home, things were…cold. We rarely ate as a family….except when father brought home some official for dinner whom he wanted to impress or sponsor the school. Even then, we were not a whole family-someone was missing.

Daichi's chair was always empty. And the food was catered.

I never wanted to eat any of it-enormous portions though there were. I would, of course-eat some, seeing as it would be rude to decline anything-but I was never stated.

So, more then often, I would sweep away to the diner, and leave…well sated.

But, over time, as I continued to watch this girl-and looked for her smile, finding that I wouldn't be disappointed…..

….there was….a squirming, gnawing pit in my stomach.

What….was it, exactly? I had plenty of…"fan girls," for some reason. I don't think I'm particularly handsome-or even very friendly, though I do try to be. Sometimes, I wonder about the opportunities I lost as becoming Father's….as Daichi accused me of being…. "Puppet." I was never very good at expressing myself or belying what I truly felt to someone.

Sometimes, I wonder if puppets HAD emotions….other then what their string master commands them to feel.

But…around this girl….Najika-chan….Najika-chan….Najika-chan…..

What….was this feeling?

Was it possible to miss something you never had?

~*~*~*~

My heart leaps into my stomach as I open the box-only to find a small note, as well as a hearty slice of French Cream coffee cake.

No one ever went to the trouble of actually preparing a cheesecake for me by hand….!

With trembling fingers, I pick up the small note, mentally cursing myself. Najika must have dropped it off some time before, and me-genius I am-was too wrapped up in my work to notice. _Blast._

Yep. This is definitely Najika's handwriting…..

_Senpai._

_Please,** please**, don't work yourself too hard. You'll always have a place at Fujita diner-and specially reserved._

_Goodnight and take care,_

_Najika. ^ ^_

_~*~*~*~*~_

It's good.

Good, as always. The whipped cream is cold against the soft chocolate of the pastry-and slowly melts in my mouth while I silently savor the taste.

As I finish the dessert-and lower my fork with a satisfied sigh, I slowly stand up, stretching stiff limbs in relief.

Tired though I am, tomorrow's a day off….and I need to think.

Vacating the office at last, I head down the stairs for my other "special place" I head to most, particularly when I need some alone time to muse over things.

Ah. I pause as I enter the tastefully decorated room. Meh. It means little to me.

I reach the grand piano, a small smile on my face.

~*~*~*~*~

My fingers trail over the ivory keys, the small, tinkling tune vacating to a new song I had actually been working on for some time.

I composed this piece not too long ago. One night-the night that Najika had spent no less then eight hours trying to recreate Akane's grandmother's peach pie to help pull Akane out of her dietary stupor-I had gone to bed slightly late….but had tossed and turned regardless. Sleep escaped me.

So, after pulling myself to the piano with a weary groan, I had idly let my fingers dance around the keyboard….until I started to refigurate a small tune in my head.

Now excited, I had pulled out my sketch board, pen, and ink pot, humming vaguely under my breath.

~*~*~

The tune I had alchemized I referred to as "A Rainbow's Lullaby." After all, wasn't that Najika-chan's name…?

I pull out a handkerchief to dab at my mouth. There's still a bit of cream there.

I never really wanted to be the Student Body President, you know. Still, Father approved it for me…and an overwhelming percentage of my classmates urged me to take the office.

But now….though I had come far too far to simply quit-particularly without the family exploding into fury-I found it difficult….to care as much as I used to about my work.

Smiling faintly, I return to my musing.

Who knows when it might have all started?

From the beginning? That doesn't seem quite right. My first impression of the odd girl in an outlandish, semi-Victorian, Lolita outfit was…..well…..

……..I'm not even quite sure, anymore, truth be told. Father merely wanted me to manipulate a "simple country girl-" (My blood boils whenever I think of that term) and, reluctant though I was….I agreed, in the end. After all, I was Father's heir…and supposed prodigy, as well as servant, when you came down to it.

Daichi inadvertently and indirectly lead Mother to her….early grave….and blamed Father for it. I can't blame him-he has no memories of the accident, and no one around him seems aware of anything but sorry rumors….or is afraid to whisper loudly about him at the few social gatherings he attends. He, like everyone else, believes that Mother's loneliness and depression over Father's continued absences drove her to commit suicide.

Me, he hates. In his eyes, I'm a traitor. For not crying at Mom's funeral when he felt I should. But how could I? If I allowed him to see me break down, I would probably end up confessing the truth over Mom's death….and breaking my little brother's heart.

No. Not break. Shatter.

But he hates me for another reason-for not putting up a violent scene when Father announced he was getting remarried.

My eyes narrow as I continue to play the piano, a weary sigh passing from my lips in an exhalation.

I'd felt myself well hardened to my new life. Daichi had moved out, work day after day after day……

So what had happened?

~*~*~*~

Looking at the over delighted girl I'd seen cross from the station…. I was more then a little….lost that day.

Miss Kazami was….well…..

I couldn't bring myself to talk to her at first. Skulking in the background as Miss Kazami made her first trip to Tokyo City on her way to Seika, _skipping _down the sidewalk. _Skipping!_

I'd rarely seen a business typhoon who made a killing in the stock market look so cheery.

She certainly seemed to love window shopping. I saw her glance into the window of a wedding dress emporium, and her face brightened once again, if that were possible.

And then, the girl had found a mewing kitten in a nearby tree, dropped her bags, and hummed as she effortlessly made her way up the tree.

Flabbergasted, I watched her effortlessly make her way upwards, reaching for the surprised feline and returning it to the grassy ground.

As she resumed her journey, I found myself hurrying a little closer to her, skepticism fading ever so slightly.

~*~*~

As she once again made her way on her journey near the shopping district, she paused near a shoe store.

A small boy was sobbing near the entrance way as the young girl stooped to speak with him. I inched slightly closer to them, frowning slightly. What was wrong?

Miss Kazami stood up, granting the boy a soft smile.

"You're lost? I'll stay with you 'till you find your Mom."

And indeed the girl did…for a good hour and a half. Once the small boy was reunited with a frantic woman, Miss Kazami made her way across the street…..

….carrying an old woman as she did so, doubling back for someone with a walker.

The long haired girl, gentle auburn eyes constantly changing hue and expression….and the small fact that she had dug around in the_ grates_ for my 100 yen….

The fluttering was there. Even as I'd left her…..and kissed her on the cheek, just that afternoon, when she began to teach that young student how to properly create flan.

~*~*~*~*~

Hot tears fall on the piano

The pocket watch Mother left me before her death can't tell me. Daichi can't….and most likely _won't_-tell me either.

Father? Certainly not. He knows little next to nothing of my feelings. And he'd simply laugh or scorn me if he found that the elder Kitazawa brother fell in love with a poor Kazami.

In love.

I closed my eyes, letting the tears pool down my face, fingertips pressed against one another as my elbows thudded on the keys, the loud tune noisily echoing into the distance.

There was no point in fooling myself anymore.

I was in love….with Najika Kazami.

~*~*~*~*~

In the beginning, I did tease Daichi a little bit about his still unknown feelings for Najika. Brothers do, you know.

I would do anything for him. But not this time. Najika was a little younger then I was-but she was still the girl I loved.

And I needed to let her know how much….our style.

I hurry up, the bench scraping slightly on the hardwood floor.

I only hope Fujita-san is still awake….!

~*~*~*~*~*~

Unfortunately for me, he wasn't. At least a bewildered and sleep deprived Akane let me in to use her own. I've hardly ever BEEN in my own.

I wince slightly as I move a few pots onto the stove, scowling as Akane rubs her eyes, yawning.

"S-S-Sora….? What's g-g-goin' on?"

Her frown deepened.

_"What the **heck** is going on?"_ she hissed, her burning eyes locked on mine.

_"Do you KNOW what time it is?! And you just bum rush in here just to use my KITCHEN?!"_

I ignored that for the most part, managing a faint nod as I did so, flipping through a nearby recipe book.

Akane blankly stared at me, and then let out a moan as she clapped a hand to her face.

"….Y'know what? I don't wanna know."

As she departed, she merely grumbled, "Just clean up after yourself when you're done."

~*~*~*~

After forty five minutes of searching for a well sentimented dessert, I found it.

Seiya and Daichi undoubtedly held some affection for Najika-chan as well, and while whatever that makes Najika-chan happy is enough for me-I want to let her know.

Even just once…I can leave her but a small token of affection, can't I?

~*~*~*~

I lied to the girl I love. That hurts beyond anything else.

Still, I wanted to be her Flan prince. Can't I still be? By fixing her a dish of my own hands?

But how did I express HOW I felt…? About the rainbow in my life?

Pure.

Sweet.

Complex as she was simple.

_Clean._

My heart hammering, I had flicked through the book, breathing ragged.

Yes. That was it.

White Chocolate Velvet Cheesecake.

Excellent.

This would be extraordinarily difficult to pull off…..but, with the right amount of time….!

I turned around with a small smile…..only to see that I had accidentally left the stove on.

For far too long, judging by the flames.

And now, seeing as I was out of baking soda, the kitchen walls were next.

Whew. I'm tired-chi. Zzzzzz……..Merry early Christmas…..Zzzzzz……..


	3. Chapter 3

When Kitchens Collide

In Which We Learn Daichi Isn't Paula Dean

Seiyaだけ台所を燃やさない。 熱を取ることができなければ.....

Najikaは3つの中心を引き付けた。 だれがついにそれを、…捕獲するか。

~*~*~

Hallo, everyone. ^^ Thanks for your last reviews. I do hope to get this done soon.

Anyhoo, this segment involves…(Drum roll, please…) Daichi! And, while he seems to be everyone's favorite boy, that's no guarantee of victory, here. I certainly don't know which dessert will capture Najika's heart…it could be Seiya or Sora, for all I know.

Then again…I wish I could create a surprise ending….a truly hysterical little twist…..LOL.

Ah, well. We'll come to that when we do. Next chapter involves a showdown between all three boys when they're forced to work in Fujita's Kitchen when their recipes don't go so hot….or, should I say, go up in smoke. ^^

Anyhoo, please give me your opinion-who would YOU want to see end up with Najika? Personally, I like the unorthodox pairing of Seiya and Najika (Yes, I KNOW Seiya's a perfect match for Akane) but give me a break. Ah, well.

_Quote:_

_"The sun shines and warms and lights us and we have no curiosity to know why this is so; but we ask the reason of all evil, of pain, and hunger, and mosquitoes and **silly** people."_

_~*~_

It was bad enough having to ask Fujita-san was a potato peeler was for. Sheesh, as if the guy didn't laugh at me enough already.

Speaking of Fujita-san….

I glance back at the snoozin' old man, snoring on a nearby table like the lazy bum he was. I narrow my eyes.

How did he ever manage without Najika? Personally, I have no idea how this building was even worth squat the mud it rested on.

_How did he ever manage without Najika….._

I turn scarlet, and bend over the counter, rapidly peeling one of the many potatoes that formulate to a small mountain in the sink once again. I decided to help Najika out by peelin' some of these for tomorrow's lunch. Don't know why she was so happy about it-but, then again, if I got tendonitis the way she does, I guess that pretty much says it all.

~*~*~

It's embarrassing.

Really, and for truly, embarrassing.

Because I have to put that selfsame question about managing without Najika to MYSELF, more than often enough, nowadays.

~*~*~

Najika.

She'd gotten home-or, at least back to the dorms-ages ago. I was glad she did-the monkey was so sleepy at the end of another work day, by the time she'd begun cooking tomorrow's lunch, well….

….she got more than max her usual amount of clumsiness. And the REGULAR amount is dangerous enough as it is! Honestly, she got enough cuts and burns from her profession as it was. Najika was seriously going to overdo it one day and seriously get herself hurt.

The thought had my insides constrict sickeningly, and I began to peel even more rapidly.

I hope Najika didn't mind Potato stubs…

~*~*~

I didn't understand why Najika came to Fujita Diner, at first. This was Tokyo-and, while I don't know how people do it back in Hokkaido, I have to be perfectly honest-no one tips here. Fujita was too much of a cheap skinflint to pay her.

It was a hard, thankless job that took up practically all of Najika's free time. Redecorating the place, reestablishing a menu, cooking her can off day and night when the snobs who ran this stinkin' place took no greater pleasure then whispering behind her back, brutally employing back stabbing methods for their own enjoyment…..

My knuckles turn whitish in color at the thought. I could only imagine their incentives for doing so….

_"Hey, let's pick on the human stomach-that sounds like fun!"_

_"I'm already feeling inadequate and insecure, even though I'm bloody rich. Let's go mock the poor girl."_

_"Kazami-san has no special talents-and she's stupider then a grade-A brick. Let's write a petition and force her out!"_

_~*~*~_

_!_

_Grrr, why was I so ticked off, all of a sudden? _

With a groan and a sigh, I impatiently drop the last potato-or what had once BEEN a potato, seeing as it now resembled little more than a stub-and wash it off, broodingly staring at the cool, clear water merrily splashing on the pale vegetables.

Of course I was ticked off.

Why WOULDN'T I be? The girl I loved was in jeopardy.

By my own…so called…_family._

A growl escaped me as I angrily sank onto one of the restaurant's many wooden chairs, my face in my hands.

I loved her.

I was in love with Najika.

The thought made my hands quiver violently, my heart began to violently pound, and my mouth go dry.

_I loved Najika._

Again, that selfsame…._conviction_ raced through my veins in a fiery sweep of intuition and clarity, refocused to a whole new, sharper edge.

But she….heh.

Ditz as she was….was NOT going to notice easily…even though the signs were all quite blatant.

Hadn't that kiss proved it by now….?

But no. I'd gotten jealous and suspicious of aniki's intentions after Najika had made her way through the culinary competition's first round.

And then, I decided to…"congratulate" her, too.

By kissing her.

But, in the end, all I did was end up distressing her….yet AGAIN.

I made a lame, cover up story….about me wanting to top Sora's congratulations.

And, I could see the hurt, bewilderment, and betrayal in her eyes all too well before she ran off, crying.

~*~*~

Do I…always make her cry?

Sure, we always make up, but….

I grit my teeth and bury my hands in my hair.

It sucks.

It really, really sucks.

Why can't I be…"Prince Charming?" Or….that guy….her…"Flan Prince?"

Maybe if I was a little more like Sora-if only in THAT way….things….

…could have been…different.

Najika liked Aniki.

The thought made my stomach twist and my blood boil as a scowl crossed my features.

No.

That swotty little, prance of a prince….little showoff and….pathetic PUPPET…..

No-he could never love Najika in return. Sure, he had looks-as well as charm-

But when it came down to to the boiling point, that was about it. Again, he would use Najika-regardless of any promise to Father.

That piece of….that rotten, no good, dirty, stinking-!

I felt like screaming.

Dad would NEVER accept Najika as anything more than useful advertising material. He wanted his Cinderella to give this stupid academy acclaim-not to help her fulfill her dream and destiny in life.

And….as for the other cretin who'd taken an "interest" in Najika….

Mizuno.

That overstuffed, pompous little creep.

Seiya was…mean. A self-confident, blown up, spoiled little brat that happened to know a trick or two when it came to cooking. That was it. That was all.

Nothing more. He could never, ever hope to compare to the heart that Najika would pour into her cooking-nor the effort she put into making food that came from a tiny little room instead of a gourmet kitchen taste delicious.

Seiya was a snob. A jerk who, like Sora, thought he could get what he wanted, WHEN he wanted.

Well, not this time.

Seeing Najika show up the snob society in this stupid place, seeing her help someone who gladly backstabbed her…multiple times….

Managed to save Fujita Diner…..

And pulled it to the top, in the end….

She did shine with the force and light of her own star and prism of colors.

That was Najika for you.

Determination and hope vamping my insides, I stood, breathing slightly ragged.

Even if Najika didn't accept me as her…number one….then, at least I could live with the knowledge that I tried my best.

Akane had done the same for me with her _mille feuille._ Although I think she did know, in the end…that my heart didn't belong to her…she told me she wouldn't be able to move on until she learned the truth.

Poor Akane. But she'll find someone better for her, in the end.

I know it.

However, if I was going to make my move, I had sure as heck better do it now. Do or die time in THIS quarter.

And…while I did it…I would follow Najika and Akane's example by confessing…

…with a dessert for the girl I cared about for most.

I was an absolutely rotten cook-but it wouldn't kill me to give it a shot. Najika would hardly approve of me buying a store made cake.

I didn't know too many recipes…so, maybe I could make one myself….if it didn't give Najika food poisoning.

A confetti cake. Rainbow style.

With everything I could make it to be perfect-just not obnoxious….

Plot formulating in my head, I made my way to the kitchen-but before hearing the front and back doors slide open.

I start slightly.

Huh? Fujita Diner's closed.

I turn around….

…and see my absolute two_ favorite_ people in the world.

* * *

Sora.

Sora was holding a charcoaled plate….while Seiya was wearing a smug smile.

But, as soon as we took each other in, I froze.

And, I voiced my sentiments as such:

"Oh, crud."

~*~*~

O.O

Oy, vey….these three are going to try and confess love with a dessert….and, as if that weren't enough, they all want to use the same kitchen!

If you're wondering why Sora's here, it's because he set the Kishida household on fire by accident. Seiya had already finished his dessert, but, although the guy thinks victory is imminently his, decides to go for the grand effect and use what Najika taught him: Making a dessert with your own heart and logic, rather than just the technology you have for it. Awwww !

So, he and Sora are remaking their desserts while Daichi is going to try making a confetti cream cheese cake-with jelly beans on it. Or, a Najika. (Yes, it's his own design and creation. I'm warming to him significantly, now…..:D)


	4. Chapter 4

When Kitchens Collide

If You Just Can't Take The Heat….Part One

~*~*~

…..stay outta the kitchen! LOL!

These three are forced to work alongside each other to complete the desserts they hope will ultimately inform the ditzy Cinderella they love most-Najika-of utmost affection, each in their own unique fashion.

Hallo, everyone. Glad to see you once again. Internet's currently down at my house (Yeccch, cries) but, as soon as I can get this uploaded and updated, I will.

I have a long list of projects to complete before this Fanfiction Veteran is able to end her dream of creating 200 fictions. ^^ But quantity never makes quality, and I'll just have to give it my all, in the meantime.

I wish I knew who is going to win this one….poor Najika is going to have three boys confess love all at the same time…..

Right now, it's anyone's game. Seiya has finally learned to love again in Najika-and he shares her dream. Sora gets killed in the manga (Sorry for the spoiler, folks….) and, he really was rather a sweetheart. He does care for Najika very much, and is desperate to prove it.

Daichi also loves Najika-and he's a fairly lovable underdog that catches everyone's attention. Right when I started reading KP, somehow, it seemed obvious the gruffer of the two brothers was going to get her. (Sorry for that spoiler.)

So….will you guys vote? Or, will you make it harder on me and demand a surprise? One of my reviewers (she was joking) suggested that I make them…polygamists. O.O

…..um…..okay…..no. *Giggles. No. No way.*

But drop me a note, okay? Or I can just drop the tale. Whichever floats your boat.

^^ I'd rather not, though.

~*~*~

_Quote:_

_"Behind every successful male culinary artist, there is a surprised woman in his wake."_

_~*~_

As Daichi angrily began to question Sora, Seiya narrowed his eyes, looking slightly amused at this point.

His first dessert was a masterpiece. He knew that well enough. It was just a matter of confessing to the girl he loved.

But still, something just hadn't felt quite right-after preparing the most exotic ingredients in his five star gourmet kitchen the Mizunos had bought him.

It had been easy enough to prepare _Be Mine Now_-and, in a short amount of time, he had finished the extravagant dish, and had even begun elegantly binding it in a small, red velvet box with a large, golden ribbon that twinkled ever so slightly.

But then….

Seiya had stopped, and had paused to ponder the small box. Surely, in any store-it would fetch a rousing price. His pride tickled slightly at that.

But hadn't Najika spent weeks tutoring him in how to prepare a dish-with what you did have?

He had had to consider it throughout dinner before the decision to remake the dessert had to come back to him in full force.

And, to his butler's surprise, he had simply waltzed out without saying a word.

When Najika had inquired Fujita-san on the possibility of Seiya making that day's dessert and had been granted approval, Seiya had met the challenge with slight unease.

The ingredients were those you could find in any school cafeteria! Not in his gourmet!

But Fujita had snapped at him to use what they did have.

And so, Seiya had, once again, grudgingly applied.

~*~*~*~

It had felt….good, watching the students' delight at their simple apple tarts.

And what had been…even more…invigorating, for the first time in years….was hearing them ask whether or not he would be making dessert tomorrow.

When he had replied with an affirmative, their happiness and promise to return was….quite unsettling.

It was…good.

He was….enjoying himself.

And, after putting all of that effort into it and seeing it pay off so dramastically….

It was truly, for really, and exactly…..

_…..fun._

~*~*~*~

At first, Seiya had indeed believed that Najika's tricks in the trade in cooking were idiotic. That first challenge with the Madelines had to have been extremely biased.

Even a professional had acknowledged this…little girl's skills in the face of all of his years of training!

But….after his second culinary competition with Najika Kazami-when she had won favor with the judges….yet again-he had grown immensely frustrated.

As well as confused.

Father had always convinced him that to survive even one day on this Earth, you had to be the cream of the crème….the top of your game….and always at your best.

Otherwise, you were worthless.

After years of being tutored by stern chefs' watchful eyes, after years of having breakdowns and tears in the kitchen when the culinary experts would scream at him for failing to properly concoct an elegant dish-equations had finally made their way through….

….and drilled their way into his head.

Equations. Mathematical terms. Proper uses of flavor and dexterity in the kitchen.

The correct numbers gave you the correct answers.

Father's advisors had at least been satisfied when the child gave in to THAT conclusion…

~*~*~

But, despite the competition the Director had forged to knock Kazami down a few pegs, she still kept on going.

And she had faith in what she could do.

Her technique was silly.

As well as her gimmicks. She was full of them.

But it was these selfsame…techniques of hers that always gave her the win, overall.

Her dishes were messy.

As well as often simple.

But the heart she always managed to procure into them was astonishing.

THAT had been what confused Seiya….

….and that had been the reason he insisted to watch her cook in Fujita Diner-if only from afar.

~*~*~

The days went by. Fujita made him wash dishes.

And clean.

And take orders, much to his growing agitation. You did not tell a member of the Mizuno group what to do.

But, to everyone's surprise, Seiya HAD stayed.

And indeed, he watched.

~*~*~

Najika would ponder over each student's likes and dislikes before completing a dish, much to the young elite's surprise.

A long test day? Drops of lemon juice were added to the water.

It was cold outside? She took care not to add ice.

A cough was going around? A lozenge was either added on the platter, or mixed into a complimentary cup of tea.

When Seiya had demanded to know why, his answer back was really a simple one:

Anything it took to enhance the experience-anything that made anything a little better for the person to eat and enjoy….

….it was time, Najika seemed to believe, not unwell spent.

~*~*~

When Seiya had first begun to fall in love with the girl, he did not know.

It might have been when he watched her at Lavender House-cooking or crying. She always seemed to be occupied with one or the other.

It had made the arrogant little boy….sad, watching her cry. It was much more pleasant to watch her bake ugly cakes.

Why, he did not know. Perhaps to make himself feel better?

But, now he was certain that wasn't it.

Her expressions were constantly animated. The glow that surrounded her as she cooked was always a mild and gentle spark that made everything seem somewhat….

….radiant.

Yes, Najika was radiant.

Something lurched in Seiya's stomach as an uncustomary shade of red stretched across his face.

A hot blush spread to cheek to cheek as he bit his lip in astonishment.

He was in love.

He was truly, deeply, and desperately in love with Najika Kazami-the poor country girl.

No….that wasn't quite it.

He was in love with Najika Kazami-

The one with an absolute sense of taste.

~*~

Seiya started ever so slightly as Sora and Daichi continued to argue. He cast an almost repulsed look at the plate the elder Kitazawa brother was clutching.

In another lifetime, that charcoal might have once been food.

But now, it had been completely and utterly decimated.

So, Prince Charming was going to make his move on Najika?

A new emotion-one that surprised him alarmingly-shot through his system.

Jealousy.

But why? He had no one to make him feel jealous-not when you were a Mizuno. Every door was opened with a bow, and every red carpet was stretched out to meet your feet.

Well….Najika had always been an exception, in his youth. But that was neither here, nor there.

Sora would just have to back off. And-as if the little punk Daichi could deny his feelings for Najika-the younger Kitazawa would as well.

Najika had been here for two years. Two years.

And they hadn't made one move on her. Seiya inwardly snorted.

Pathetic.

Gold eyes sparkled slightly with mischief as he casually walked into the kitchen, leaving the two Kitazawa brothers to argue.

Time to take matters into his own hands.

~*~*~

Yep, Seiya's being coy. It won't last for long, however......


End file.
